


Shawshank's Redemption

by carma19



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gift Fic, Holiday Fic Exchange, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carma19/pseuds/carma19
Summary: Santa gets handsy with Chloe. Beca serves up some Christmas punch.A/N: Set during Junior year, Beca and Jesse broke up a little while ago.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	Shawshank's Redemption

“I can’t feel my toes,” Beca grumbled, staring into the makeshift dressing room mirror and adjusting her silicone pointy ears. They’d signed up to work all weekend at the Barden Winter Festival, an outdoor community holiday bash including a parade, performances, and photos with Santa himself.

“It’s good money, Beca!” Jessica, clad in a snowman costume, called from beside her. She bopped her head along to the Christmas tunes streaming through the white ‘employees’ tent, where the Bellas prepared to work their third day of the long weekend. “It’ll all be worth it when we can afford our awesome new costumes for finals!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” The things she did for these girls. Beca cut Jessica a glance. “Your carrot nose is crooked.” 

Stacie pranced over wearing her spandex brown bodysuit and antler headband. “I know we’ve been doing this for a couple of days but I’m still really feeling myself in this outfit,” she said, pulling her headband off and poking Cynthia-Rose’s ass with her antlers. 

Cynthia-Rose snickered in her own reindeer suit, hers baggy by choice. “So which reindeer have you slept with?”

“Dasher and Prancer,” Stacie said as she plucked her red lipstick from the makeup kit, pulling her collar around her neck with a tag that read ‘Vixen’. “I’ve got a date with Comet tonight. He’s _hot_.” 

Beca rolled her eyes, focusing on her own outfit--the pop-up Christmas photo exhibit opened in ten minutes, and surely a line of families with shrieking, crying, antsy children stretched through the entire park for a chance at a picture with Santa. She fastened her red suspenders over her high-waisted red trousers, pushing up her thermal gray sleeves and pulling on her elf cap. 

“Don’t forget your curly-toed shoes,” Flo reminded her, also clad in an elf costume. 

“I won’t.” She heaved a heavy sigh, glancing around for their third Bella elf. (Everyone under 5’5 had to be an elf. This was discrimination, Beca was sure of it.) “Where’s Chloe?” Her co-captain had arranged this whole “Operation: Barden Festival Santa’s Helpers for Extra Bellas Money” shindig, so Beca definitely wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she bailed. 

“I’m right here!” Chloe hurried in, beaming as she adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses across her nose. Instead of her regular elf costume, Chloe dressed as Mrs. Claus in a red velvet dress with a white apron.

“Dude, what the hell?” Beca frowned. “How’d you ditch the pointy ears?”

“Susan called out last minute and Doug said they needed a Mrs. Claus, so here I am!” Chloe skipped closer and grinned, plucking one of Beca’s suspenders and offering a warm wink. “Don’t worry, Becs. I know you and Flo will uphold your Santa’s helper elf duties just fine without me.” 

Beca wrinkled her nose. “Just don’t get too close to Santa. Doug’s a creeper, Chlo.”

“Aren’t most mall Santas creepers, though?” Amy cut in, wearing her homemade angel costume and pinning up her halo. “They’re all old men who like having children sit in their laps. If that’s not creepy--”

“Amy, stop!” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and shot her an unimpressed look. “You’re overthinking this. He’s _Santa_. It’s tradition! Children love it.” 

Beca winced. “I mean, do they really? Most of the babies are wailing once they sit in his lap and half the older kids have to be bribed to smile for the picture--”

“Or I make them laugh!” Amy interjected proudly. “The photographer loves me.” 

Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “Okay, Grinches. It’s time to take our places. See you out there!” She shot Beca another look. “Remember to smile, Beca! You’re a _happy_ elf!”

 _It’s decent money_ , Beca reminded herself as she fell in line with the other Bellas. They emerged from the dressing room area and took their places in the holiday display in the center of the festival’s courtyard. She stood by the picket fence strung up with Christmas lights and dutifully scooped up a stack of pamphlets which she’d hand to waiting parents--the (severely overpriced) photo package options available for order. 

As she’d predicted, three days from Christmas, the line of families waiting to meet Santa snaked past the roped off queueing area and stretched back as far as she could see. She ratcheted up her fake smile and began distributing pamphlets. An hour in, Beca swapped spots with Flo, managing the front of the line and letting families through one at a time to ascend the red carpeted stairs to Doug-as-Santa on his throne, with Chloe-as-Mrs. Claus standing dutifully beside him. 

“Thanta!” The little pipsqueak child burst as she ran up to hop on Santa’s lap. 

“Ho, ho, ho,” Doug called through his fake beard. “What’s your name, little girl? And how old are you?”

“Amanda,” she said, her two missing front teeth morphing her speech in a kind of cute way, Beca thought. “I’m thix.”

“Were you a good girl this year, Amanda?” 

“Yeth!” Amanda brightened. “I want a Playthation, pleath!” 

Santa’s thick brows crawled up toward his cap and his eyes moved to Amanda’s parents waiting down below. They offered a thumbs up. “Well… I will do my best, Amanda. Thank you for telling me what you’d like for Christmas. Now let’s get your little brother up here for a photo.”

Beca sighed, taking the squirmy toddler from his mother’s arms and carrying him up the stairs, settling him on Santa’s other leg. Then she stood off to the side while Chloe stepped up beside Santa’s decorated chair, her smile wide and bright. 

“Look here, everyone!” Amy called in her angel costume beside the photographer, waving to try to get both kids’ attention. “Say _gingerbread!_ ”

Beca watched as Doug’s arm wrapped around Chloe’s waist, his plump man-hand sliding lower and--

_Squeezing Chloe’s ass._

Beca’s heart stopped as she watched Chloe’s eyes pop wide and her smile grew strained, politely stepping aside as soon as the picture had been taken. 

Aware she was on stage in that a huge crowd of festival attendees watched their display, Chloe kept up her act, though Beca saw the distress plain on her face. Beca’s stomach clenched and she saw red as Amanda hopped off Santa’s lap and skipped back down toward her mom and dad. Beca stormed forward, tasked with transporting the younger child back to his parents. 

Instead, she audibled. “Chlo, take the kid.” 

Chloe jolted back to herself, her head bobbing in a dazed sort of nod as she picked up the boy and settled him on her hip. She was halfway down the stairs when--

_Crack!_

Chloe whirled back around to find Doug on the ground clutching his cheek and Beca standing over him, her fist still balled up. 

Beca dropped to her knees and gripped Doug up by the collar of his Santa suit, rearing back again. “You fucking _asshole_ \--” 

“Beca, stop!” Chloe pleaded, snapping Beca’s attention toward her.

Beca’s breath caught when she glanced out to find the crowd had gone silent--hundreds of parents and children blinking up at her, their expressions morphed into one of horror.

Amanda’s voice called out to break the silence as she flung a finger toward Beca. “That girl elf punched Thanta!” 

The children cried out, some erupting in piercing wails and others choking sobs, clinging to their parents. The adults grumbled, booing Beca--some fleeing the line while shaking their heads. 

In a last ditch effort to salvage the scene, Amy ran up the stairs and blocked Beca with her body. She began singing an over-the-top, Amy-esque version of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” while frantically waving the rest of the Bellas over to sing with her. 

Beca’s cheeks flamed as red as her elf pants as she glared hard at Doug. “Touch her again and see what happens next time,” she growled as event security hurried toward her. 

Shit, they were real Barden cops. One uniformed officer took Beca’s arm and gently tugged her upright, the other pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “You need to come with us, miss.” 

“Seriously?? Arrest _him!_ He grabbed my friend’s ass!” Beca cried, though her protest didn’t seem to matter as the officers escorted her off the display.

“Don’t call my dad!” Beca pleaded to her friends, watching as Chloe began arguing with another police officer who stayed behind. 

Cynthia Rose called back over the crowd as Beca was ushered away in handcuffs. “Don’t forget to get yourself a bitch this time!” 

A nearby mother gasped and covered her daughter’s ears, glaring daggers at Cynthia Rose.

Beca sat stoic on a metal bench within a thick-barred holding cell in the Barden Police Department. Her legs crossed tight and her arms crossed over her chest, her mind replaying the events of the day over and over. She had no access to a clock and they took her phone upon arrival, so she had no idea how much time passed--a small window behind the receptionist’s desk let her know it had been dark for what felt like hours. 

Part of her wondered when she’d get her phone call, not that she knew who to call--definitely not her dad. Definitely not Jesse, even though they were still friends after their breakup. And she figured she’d temporarily burned her bridges with the Bellas for probably screwing their hard-earned pay after punching that jolly, handsy fuckface out. (He deserved it, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.) 

Chloe was probably pissed at her. Chloe could’ve handled Doug herself, Beca knew that--but she couldn’t help it. She would’ve been filled with blind rage had Doug laid a hand on any of her other friends, too. 

(It was different with Chloe, though. It had always been a little different with Chloe, since the beginning. Beca had only started admitting that to herself a few months ago, and she still had no idea how to go about navigating that weirdness without fucking up the best female friendship she’d ever had.) 

“Mitchell,” the uniformed officer called as he pulled the caged sliding door aside. “You’re free to go, elf girl.” 

Beca blinked and shot to her feet. “I am?” 

“Yeah, sign these papers.” He led her to the desk and handed her a pen. “The civilian you struck decided not to press charges.”

Relief washed through Beca and she signed the release papers. After being handed her phone, they walked her down the hall and to the front lobby.

Chloe waited with her arms on her hips, still clad in her Mrs. Claus outfit with her car keys dangling from her fingertips.

She was pissed. Beca cast her a warm smile, to which Chloe did not respond. “Let’s go home,” she said, waiting until they buckled in and Chloe pulled onto the main road, almost every house decked out in Christmas lights. 

“So you’re pissed at me, I get it.” Beca wrung her hands in her lap. “Chlo--”

“No, stop. You’re gonna listen,” Chloe said, gripping her steering wheel tight. “I could’ve handled that situation myself, you know. And I did--I filed a police report and got him fired. I didn’t need you to punch him out on the spot and freak out all the children watching.”

Beca grimaced. “Yeah, I know. You’re perfectly capable of--”

“Let me finish.” Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose at a stoplight. “It’s _really_ terrifying, you know, watching you get handcuffed for the second time. And this time because of me. I couldn’t live with myself if you actually had charges--and a criminal record or whatever--because of me. You could’ve been kicked out of Barden, you know! Out of the Bellas! Out of our house! And then what??” 

Guilt seeped into Beca’s chest and her shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I wasn’t thinking. I’m an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot. You’re fiercely loyal and an incredible friend, brave as anything and--” She finally cast Beca a look at a stop sign. “--it was stupid you punched him, yeah. But I…” She puffed out a hard breath. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same exact thing, if I was in your shoes and watched someone do that to you.”

Beca’s brow flew toward her hairline, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “Oh yeah? That’s fun to picture, you being all badass and punching someone out…” 

“You’re missing the point,” Chloe said, rounding the corner and pulling into the driveway of the white light lined Bellas house. She cut the ignition and turned to face Beca more fully. “I’m still mad at you for potentially ruining your future--and potentially cracking a knuckle--because of me.” Her expression softened, those wide eyes glistening with emotion. “But I appreciate what you did, too. I appreciate _you_ , Becs.” A flash of something crossed Chloe’s expression--something Beca didn’t recognize. It struck her as apprehension or nerves, and it didn’t make sense…

Until they exited the car and walked up the front path onto the front porch, where mistletoe hung from the center of the front door frame.

Beca’s eyes popped wider and she let out a decompressing chuckle, a flush streaking across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “Uh…” She pointed up to the holiday greenery. “Who the hell put that there?” 

“I did,” Chloe said, boldly stepping up to Beca. She gripped up one of her elf suspenders and leaned in to brush their lips together, timidly at first and more tenderly once Beca’s shock wore off and she kissed back. 

Firecrackers zoomed in Beca’s chest and she blinked her eyes open, speechless until a decompressing chuckle puffed free. “Wow, that was--um--yeah.”

“Good?” Chloe asked, her nose scrunching with amusement. “We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah. Definitely. Super dope. Totally okay.” Beca cleared her throat, still staring at Chloe with awe swirling in her eyes. 

“Good.” Chloe offered a sheepish grin, taking Beca’s hand and lacing their fingers. “Merry Christmas, Shawshank.” She pressed inside the house and led Beca into the living room, where the rest of the Bellas, with shit-eating grins plastered on their faces and bowls of snacks strewn about, waited up for her.


End file.
